


A Witch Walks Into A Pub

by SunRae5



Series: Pictures on a Wall [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunRae5/pseuds/SunRae5
Summary: Hermione's parents hate her, the war is over and she's finished school whether she likes it or not. Now she just has to figure out what to do with the rest of her life. If only Draco Malfoy wasn't there spoiling her introspective pint of beer by just sitting there looking even more miserable than her.





	A Witch Walks Into A Pub

**Author's Note:**

> This one refers back to something that was mentioned in Chapter 8 of the parent work 'Et Tempus Defuit' but you don't have to read that one for this to make sense. Enjoy!

_"And I said yes." Hermione shook her head as she let out a small laugh. "The next morning, after waking up, I remembered the whole promise and I set out to find Draco."_

~.~.~.~.~

 Hermione looked down into the depths of her glass as the amber liquid swirled around merrily within it. It was her...fourth? Fifth? Something-ith glass of beer. Not that she was really keeping count to be honest. And honestly, it didn't taste that great either. But again, she didn't really care.

 She didn't care about all that many things these days, she found.

 It was pretty difficult after all, seeing as pretty much everyone she knew either hated her, was deeply traumatised or wasn't there at all any more.

 She hated the feeling of apathy that never quite seemed to leave her these days but then again, she didn't really care.

 Had she said that already?

 Maybe?

 Not that it mattered. She was planning to get completely and utterly pissed this night anyway.

 Her eyes passed over a calendar that was inconspicuously situated next to the till of the bar and felt her mood take another downward plummet.

 God, she hated this day. This day and everything that it represented.

 Her lost youth, the war, the violence...her friends.

 She felt her eyes begin to water and took another healthy swig of the beer.

 It's not as if crying had ever done her much good anyway, she thought rather bitterly.

 It certainly hadn't done squat all when she had stood in front of where the Hogwarts grounds began, unable to get through to the battered castle as tens of other people had stood beside her, trying to do exactly the same.

 It hadn't done her any good when she had collapsed there a week later, exhausted both magically and physically, still unable to get past the invisible barrier that had seemingly formed overnight.

 It hadn't done anything for her when her parents had unceremoniously kicked her out a week before she'd gotten back to Hogwarts after restoring their memories, furious at having had her tamper with their memories. No matter how accepting they may have been of magic and that aspect of her once, it hadn't extended to what she had felt like she needed to do to protect them.

  _"How could you do this to us?"_

_"We were your parents!"_ The use of the past tense there had alerted her to the fact that something was going horribly, horrendously wrong at the time.

 The sound of the door crashing shut, reverberating up and down the entire street of the small suburb outside of Melbourne where her parents had settled, followed her around at night to this day.

 Some days...some days the sound of that door crashing shut haunted her infinitely more than any of the horrors she had seen and experienced during the war. It signified everything she had ever loved and felt safe with falling apart, crumbling to dust around her. Being unable to reach her friends a week later had been the final nail on the coffin known as her mental health for a while after that.

 Leaving the country when she finally collapsed three months later, having worked herself to the bone trying to figure out what had happened at Hogwarts, had been the only option. In fact, Kingsley had, for all intents and purposes, kicked her out of the Ministry for it.

 She took another swig of beer, feeling the now lukewarm liquid run down her throat, her nose turning up slightly in disgust at how the change in temperature worsened the taste.

 She felt the ghost of Ron sidle up beside her.

  _"Ah look Harry, she's thinking too much again!" Rambunctious laughter filled the air._

_"Come on Hermione, stop thinking so much for once and just live!" Harry's laughter joined Ron's as they threw their arms around her._

 She shook her head as she tried to clear it of the ghosts that haunted her.

 Maybe they were gone, maybe they weren't. Who knew. The Ministry and Kingsley certainly didn't. She felt bitterness and regret fill her up once more.

 Maybe if she had had more time, more time to study whatever it was that had happened. Maybe she would be able to figure it out...

 No, no. She had to live. She had to keep moving forward and stop looking back. Adele may still be checking in on her post-graduation every week to make sure she was eating somewhat normally but even without her she knew that she needed to keep looking forward.

 It had been two years, it was time she did something more with her life than wallow in memories.

 Not that Dr. Reed wasn't telling her the exact same bloody thing every session she saw him.

 She scowled at her glass as she thought of her therapist and saw that it was nearly empty.

 She frowned.

 She would need another soon.

 Looking up and towards the bar, she noted another figure sitting just as desolately as she was at a table by himself. Squinting slightly, she swore she recognised that shade of blonde from somewhere.

 Shrugging, she got up and walked towards the bar, feeling pretty proud that she didn't sway all that much. Plopping herself down on the nearest stool she steadied herself and waited until the man tending to the bar finished serving the young couple that had been ahead of her.

 She felt another wave of sadness overcome her.

 She had been on the cusp of being in love once.

 Maybe if they had had more time, it could have developed into something more than the crush and infatuation it had been, developed into something deeper, something without the desperate edge their year on the run had given everything.

 "Madmoiselle?" The bartender ripped her from her thoughts, the slight furrow on his brow showed that he had asked her once already what she would like.

 "Un autre s'il vous plaît." She smiled as charmingly as she could and pushed the empty glass forward. She'd had enough of them that he knew what she wanted anyway.

 He put the new glass of Triple Karmeliet in front of her and she thanked him as she handed him her change.

 Belgian beers, if you wanted to get drunk and enjoy the taste while you were at it they were the way to go, she thought rather happily, pulling the glass closer to herself.

 As she took a sip from her new perch, she looked around the room again and found her eyes drawn once more to the man who had been sitting in the corner. To her surprise, she found him staring straight back at her. And to her horror, she realised exactly why she had recognised that shade of blonde.

 Frickin' Draco bloody Malfoy.

 Of all the people on the whole planet, she had to run into him.

 Why did he have to end up in the same bar that she did? In all of Paris? There were so many perfectly available and acceptable bars in the whole city. Why? Why did he have to be here?

 Especially on the day she had the least patience for it.

 Having recognised her as well, he got up and walked towards her. With some annoyance she noted that he apparently didn't have to concentrate all that hard on walking straight.

 He plonked himself down next to her and turned to her.

 "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine." He said softly, his expression surprisingly soft and open.

 "You-" She began.

 "Not today Granger." He looked even more worn down than she did. And that was not an easy feat by any means.

 She felt some of the fight leave her.

 He raised his glass in a silent toast, tapping the bottom of it against the top of the bar and she joined him in it. Both of them downed their glasses and turn them over, waiting for the bartender to come over and pour them both another one.

 They sat there in silence, even after they had gotten a new glass.

 "To the ones we lost." He said suddenly. She looked at him in slight suspicion but clinked their glasses together, taking a sip.

 "To the ones injured." She continued. Another clink, another sip.

 "To the ones who survived."

 "To the ones we wish did."

 "To our lost childhoods."

 "To our damaged adulthood."

 "To the damage that can never be undone."

 "To the regrets we have."

 They'd reached the bottoms of their glasses.

 The list went on for another round.

 As the bartender poured them another glass Hermione took stock of the man sat next to her. The unlikely companion who was now stopping her from her biting and maudlin introspection and quieting her thoughts by distracting her from the past with his mere presence.

 "Why are you here Malfoy?" She finally asked, after another half an hour had ticked by with nothing happening but them staring at the pictures on the wall behind the bar.

 "Draco." He said quietly.

 "What?"

 "Malfoy is my father. A legacy that caused our downfall." The second statement surprised her. "Tonight I'm just Draco."

 "Okay, just Draco," He snorted as she couldn't keep the slight sarcasm out of her voice, "Why are you here?"

 "Same reason as you, I take." He replied, tracing the rim of his glass with his finger.

 "Which would be?" She'd come to grudgingly tolerate him over the course of their year at Beauxbatons, as had he she'd thought, but they were nothing remotely close to friends.

 "Trying to escape our demons for the night as we try to drown them in alcohol." He raised his glass again.

 She didn't do him the disservice of asking about his demons or implying that he didn't have any. If there was anything she'd learnt since the war had ended, then it was that nothing was ever black and white. He had also suffered, just as much as she had, just in a different way.

 Nobody's suffering was ever comparable to anyone else's or inconsequential, especially in this war they had been a part of.

 She took another sip of her beer and watched the clock tick by slowly on the wall.

 "Do you-" He started but then stopped, shaking his head.

 She waited a couple of seconds but when nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, she opened her mouth.

 "Do I what?"

 He turned to look at her and shook his head slightly as if to clear it.

 "Do you think, that if the idea of what being in each house meant, that we wouldn't have been enemies right from the start?" She started at his question. This was something she hadn't expected at all.

 "You mean apart from the casual and, in cases, extreme racism you believed in and enforced against Muggles?" She baited, not being able to help herself.

 Old habits died hard after all.

 He grimaced as she said that but she also saw a lot of regret and remorse on his face.

 "Sorry, that was uncalled for." She whispered.

 "No, it wasn't." He swallowed and turned to look slightly forward, not being able to look her in the eye as he began speaking once more.

 "I followed the beliefs of my parents blindly and hurt you a lot with them and for that I'm sorry." She felt surprise steal through her as he turned to look at her, straight into her eyes. "I truly am sorry Hermione, you did not deserve any of that. Muggle-borns aren't lesser than purebloods either and I know that now." The corners of his mouth turned up somewhat awkwardly and he shrugged. "Apparently it just took a war and shit load of trauma for me to realise that."

 A huff of laughter escaped her lips. "Sorry, that shouldn't be funny but-" She began to shake as more laughter bubbled up from inside her. "Oh god, that was far too morbid, I really shouldn't be-" More laughter poured out of her.

 Once she'd caught herself again, Draco grinned at her self-depreciatingly. "No, it is funny, just in a really, pretty bad way."

 Silence stole over them once more.

 "I think-" She began and he started, obviously not having expected her to even begin answering him at all, "I think that maybe we wouldn't have been." She shrugged. "Thinking back on it now, having had some distance and seeing Beauxbatons and how they work there, I think that maybe Hogwarts is indeed a bit too rigid on what it means to be in each house."

 Draco quirked an eyebrow at her.

 "Yeah, I think so too." He seemed contemplative as he stared into the bottom of his glass. "Sometimes I wonder whether I would have turned out any different if I had ended up in another house. If there had been an influence of the people around me, whether it would have been enough to see the error in my parents' and their parents' thinking long before I did. The whole nature versus nurture concept."

 He turned to look back at her.

 "Is someone born inherently evil, given their circumstances, or is it in fact their upbringing that makes it so?"

 "I've never thought so." Hermione replied, wondering at the extremely philosophical turn their conversation had taken. "Some people may be slightly more predisposed to turning towards a darker path based on their character and the experiences that have shaped that character but I don't think that anyone is born evil. They cannot be. We see evil as something defined by the actions a person takes, the things they do and the suffering they cause. A child therefore isn't as they very rarely do something maliciously just for the sake of it. They may cause harm inadvertently as they do not know any better but," She took another sip of her beer, "That is what makes them children. They do not know any better, they have no concept of good or evil without being told what good and evil are. They are a blank slate in essence."

 "I've been thinking about it for a while now," Draco started as he thought about what she'd said, "And I've come to the same conclusion."

 He flagged down the bartender and ordered some water.

 "We've lost so much." He had a distant look in his eyes. "We've lost so much over so little in many ways."

 "Yeah." She nodded sadly. "But that's what often happens. The discord or disagreement of a few people pulls in many and hurts even more. We were taught to distrust one another and foster hatred as opposed to talking to one another."

 "People are set in their ways and rarely want to see that they are wrong." Draco input gently.

 "I know." She waved her hand. "But that doesn't change the fact that we could have been talking. And eleven year-olds really aren't known for having mountains of beliefs they refuse to compromise on."

 "Just a lot of misplaced pride." He retorted sardonically.

 "All over a refused handshake I heard." Amusement lit up her eyes.

 "I never said I was particularly easy to get along with." He muttered, although the tone of his voice did not match the light in his eyes.

 "No, but you forget that I also didn't get along with them at the start." She swallowed, memories of that first year flooding her mind. "Harry-" She stopped and took a breath to steady herself, "Harry and Ron weren't easy people either. Like we just said, our past experiences shape our present and future reactions. And it kind of snowballed out of control, what with a homocidal maniac trying to kill both Harry and Dumbledore. We didn't exactly have much time to possibly reform relationships and learn to apologise."

 "You do have a rather mean left hook." He grinned and she groaned.

 "I can't believe you remember that."

 "You hit me in the nose, broke it as well. I deserved it but still." He laughed as he saw her in parts contrite and in parts proud expression.

 "We all make mistakes." She huffed and he laughed once more.

 She realised with a start that that was the first time she had ever heard a genuine laugh from him around her. She smiled softly into her drink.

 His grey eyes met hers and he smiled, "We truly did."

 They fell into a easier silence, occasionally glancing over at each other every once in a while.

 "I think-" She tapped her fingers on the top of the bar thinking deeply, "I think we may even have become friends, had we been given the chance to interact without either of our prejudices weighing down on us."

 "You think so?" He seemed tentative.

 "Yeah." She nodded. "I don't know about you, but I never had many friends at school before I came to Hogwarts so as long as you were able to hold a semi-decent conversation and weren't interested in telling me that I was being stupid for worrying about homework then yes."

 "I only had Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy because our fathers thought we needed to know each other so I think, I think I would have welcomed any friendship that hadn't been predetermined for me already." Draco took several sips of his water, the admission clawing itself forth from the depths inside of him.

 "That's what you were trying with Harry, in a rather roundabout way, weren't you?" She asked softly and his answering shrug was all the agreement she needed.

 Hearing the names of his childhood friends, she realised that she didn't actually know what had happened to two out of the three of them.

 "Whatever, I mean," He looked up at her as she floundered slightly, "What happened to...the others?" She winced as soon as the question had left her mouth as his expression hardened. Seeing her wince, he softened somewhat and sighed.

 "Well, you know what happened with Vince, Crabbe I guess." Both of them winced deeply this time as they remembered that time in the Room of Requirement.

 "Greg, Goyle," He nodded at her as noted her confusion, "He was also sent into exile, as my mother and I were after the war. Pansy, well her family is one of the twenty-eight but her family was only somewhat involved with the war. They weren't death eaters and served more as support, financial or otherwise so how much they were involved can't really be determined. Hence they weren't asked to go into exile so Pans was still at school when I last saw her."

 "Sorry." Hermione said softly and Draco sighed.

 She sometimes forgot that wasn't the only one who didn't know what had happened to her friends, especially on days and nights like these, when her thoughts wouldn't let her escape from reality.

 "Thanks." He re-centred his thoughts and then continued. "Because of my mother and I giving a lot of information to the Ministry and the authorities about He-Who-" He took a deep breath once more, "Sorry, Voldemort, I was released on parole and allowed to finish my schooling, as you know, and then to live a year without magic, which I'm doing right now. As Greg's family refused to enter such a deal however, they're still under house arrest and on trial so he's somewhere unknown. I only get to correspond with him once a month." He grimaced slightly and shrugged.

 "You have to live without magic?" Hermione's eyebrows travelled up her brow at an astonishing speed.

 "Yeah." He snorted in bitter amusement, "I guess they thought it would be a punishment I wouldn't be able to come back from, giving up all of my magic."

 She gaped slightly. "All of your magic?"

 "No wand, no magic, no anything." He lifted the leg of his trousers and she was able to see a glamoured manacle around his ankle. "This thing would go off if I so much as breathed in a hint of magic. I haven't even be able to go to any part of the wizarding world because of it as my mother is under house arrest and everybody else I know these days is either a Muggle or under house arrest slash in the same situation that I'm in." He let the fabric drop back down and what he said settle in.

 "That seems, strange, all things considered." Hermione finally replied.

 "I think they think that I won't make it so that's why I think they did it." He shrugged. "But I'm ten months in now so not much longer now to go."

 "What do you want to do afterwards?"

 Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Ah, the well-loved question directed towards any recent graduate of anything."

 Hermione laughed. "Well, I never did ask you at school so I think I can ask it at least once."

 The corners of his mouth turned up. "True. I guess you got it a lot?"

 Hermione nodded. "I got asked it so often I decided to move to the Muggle part of Paris. I didn't want to work for the Ministry, they've screwed me over enough in this and any life. And, well, without Harry and Ron I didn't see much of a reason to go back to the Wizarding World after finishing school."

 She took a sip of her beer. She should probably stop soon. She was already being so much more open than she usually was with anyone.

 "I guess I don't know what I want to do with my life or as a career in the future." She shrugged and turned to face away from him. She was almost expecting to hear the taunts she'd heard from some of the people in the Ministry who'd known her at school. _Doesn't know what to do? Hermione Granger? Are you sure?_

 "Well, I always wanted to open a potions company." Draco saw her hunched shoulders and decided not to press it any further.

 "A potions company?" Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Why?"

 "Well, potions was my favourite subject at school and I never wanted to work for the Ministry like my father did. And seeing how Severus always had to make potions for everyone at Hogwarts and not a lot of potions masters exist so there is always a deficiency of potions, I thought I'd open my own potions company. It would make a lot of profit."

 "That's...actually not a bad idea." Hermione was surprised. She'd always thought he would want to follow in his father's footsteps.

 "Thanks." He nodded at her and finished his beer in one fell swoop.

 Looking around themselves, they realised that they were the only people left and that the bartender had already started clearing up.

 "I guess it's time to go home now." Draco said as he stood up and quickly went to hold onto the bar as the room swayed around him.

 "Oh it's definitely time to go home." Hermione was holding onto her stool as the room spun around her too.

 They waved goodbye to the bartender and left. Standing in front of the pub, they realised that they would be going in separate directions.

 "Thank you for keeping me company tonight." Hermione said, rubbing the side of her arm somewhat awkwardly as she swayed slightly. Should they hug? Kiss on the cheek as was common? Handshake? They weren't friends but they weren't acquaintances either, maybe something in between.

 And they had just spent the entire evening talking without killing each other.

 "No, thank you." Draco nodded and made the decision for her by holding out his hand. "To a shitty anniversary with good company."

 Hermione laughed and shook his hand. "To a shitty anniversary with good company indeed. Take care Draco, get home safe."

 "You too Hermione." He nodded and then turned around and began to totter off, turning around to wave goodbye.

 Hermione smiled to herself as she began her own walk home.

 This anniversary definitely hadn't been as bad as last year. To be honest, the black out of the previous year had been a low point, even for her.

 "Wait, Hermione!" She turned around as she heard Draco call her name.

 He was walking back towards her and she wondered what he wanted.

 "Okay, this may sound absolutely stupid and I think it may be the ten? Or something, beers talking but," And he took a deep breath, "I had a really good time, all things considered tonight so I wanted to ask you something."

 "Yes?" She wondered where he was going to go with this.

 "If we manage to found a company together and not kill each other, will you go out on a date with me?" He expelled the sentence in one go.

 "A potions company?" She asked, the corners of her mouth turning up.

 "Of course." The nervous look in his eyes relaxed somewhat.

 "Okay, why not." Hermione grinned. "I'm sure this is the beers talking as well but if we manage not to kill each other when working together, we can try to go on a date."

 Draco laughed and she found that it sounded rather warm.

 "I'll see you soon then." He grinned and held out his hand once more.

 "Soon." And they shook on it.

~.~.~.~.~

 As Hermione cracked her eyes open the next day and felt her head pounding, she remembered what had happened the previous night and who she'd seen in the pub. A small, hopeful smile stole across her face even as pain was present in every crevice of her mind from her hangover.

 Maybe this next year would be better and more eventful than the past one.

~.~.~.~.~

 It was a start.


End file.
